Forgotten
by blaqksilence
Summary: Sometimes even a God is human. MikamixLight, yaoi.


**A/N: **This is my first fanfiction starring these two. I really love this pairing. This was originally going to be part of a longer story I'm working on, but I found that the mood didn't fit, so it became a oneshot. The title has a lot of meanings to me, interpret it how you like. I do hope you enjoy; con-crit is always loved and welcome, of course. The M rating may be a little high, but I wanted to be on the safe side. As for the categories, I don't think "romance" is really possible in its usual sense, but it was the closest there was.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Death Note nor am I in any way associated with it. This is written by a fan for fans, and for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made.

* * *

He sighed, not just at the physical sensation of soft fingertips on his skin, but at the feeling that he was... alive. Warm breath was tickling his neck, soft lips were brushing against his skin lightly, hands all over his body. He felt everything with such intensity, it was almost painful. He had been so absorbed by his task, so consumed by the world and its future, that he had forgotten to live.

And now, it seemed that Mikami was set on reminding him what it was like to really be human. His lips touched every inch of skin, he licked and kissed and his long black hair tickled lightly, and Light wanted to laugh, but all he could manage were short breaths and shallow gasps.

If it had been anyone else, this wouldn't be happening. Not like this, anyway. Light would be in control, he would bite and scratch, and make them beg. He wouldn't allow himself to show weakness, he would keep quiet even if it meant biting his lip until it bled.

He didn't know what it was that made this different. Maybe it was the fact that even if he was human, he was also a god, and Mikami knew this, and Light had faith in Mikami's faith. So really, that made it okay to close his eyes and whimper when he needed to, and smile a little when the soft hair tickled his chest. Mikami was like nobody else before, he wasn't soft and sweet like Misa, but he wasn't rough, either; slightly apologetic, even, but not enough to let that stop him. He was... Mikami.

Light looked up into the black-red eyes. There was lust there, and respect, and something that could be best described as affection, for lack of a better word.

Their encounters were not typical. Kira and Teru Mikami were not "lovers" (Light resented the word), nor were they friends with benefits. They were God and believer, master and subordinate. But somehow, this servant meant more. Somehow, Light depended on him more. Mikami was faithful and reliable. He followed every single order and carried it through flawlessly. He did so not out of fear, greed or desire for personal gain, but because he believed that whatever Light said, whatever he did, it was the right thing. He never questioned Kira's decisions. Sometimes, Light would see a shadow of doubt quickly cross Mikami's normally composed features, but it was gone in a flash. Trust was a word that Light had not expected to use much ever since he had become the owner of the Death Note... but trust was something that Mikami was showing him every minute. Teru was the perfect servant, the perfect believer. He would be useful for many months, maybe years to come.

Light felt his breath quicken, his mind not fully operative by now. Yes, Mikami had his uses, and even Kira himself had not expected this to be one of them.

He reached towards Teru's mess of soft, black hair, then let his hand fall. He could give up control, just this once. He could trust this man, too. If there was a single person he could trust, it was Mikami. His devoted servant.

My servant, my hope, my key to overcoming all my enemies. My- oh.

* * *

It was almost inconceivable to Mikami, to be witnessing this. It was familiar, yet different. He had become used to satisfying every one of his God's... needs? No, that was not the right word. Desires. Yes, he was used to blindly following everything his God ordered. If he desired him to kill, Teru would kill; if he desired him to lie, Teru would lie. If Kira ever said that Teru was no longer necessary, Teru would follow this last order, too. His God had given his life meaning, and his God had every right to take that life, should he desire to do so. But he would not, Teru knew he would not, because he had promised...

And sometimes, instead of death or lies, God desired touch. Teru was not sure how he had reacted the first time this happened. The shock of it caused the memories of that dark afternoon to be unfocused even now. Like a badly developed film, Teru could only vaguely remember single images, scattered sensations. He remembered Kira's hand on his wrist, the perfect, long fingers sending shivers through his skin... and then everything was a bit of a blur. It had been too much of a shock, to be touched by God at all, and then... then to be touched by God that way. He remembered Kira's lips, how rough and demanding his kisses were, and he remembered the jumble of feelings: petrifying fear, confusion, and then an overwhelming need.

Even now, after a while, each time it happened he still felt that heady mixture. Fear had been partially replaced by awe, but it was no less confusing, and still felt like a necessity... like he would die without it. Maybe it wasn't the memory at all. Maybe he was just imagining how it must have been based on how it was now.

He was thinking too much, he knew. What was happening now was far more important. For some reason, his God had been far more gentle today, and now he was allowing Teru a certain amount of control, while in turn seemingly letting go of some of his usual self-restraint.

It was only logical, Teru supposed, that a God wouldn't bother with such things. But it made him feel guilty, somehow. He felt like he was being let in on some kind of secret, but as if the secret was too much to handle. It was difficult to believe that the man who practically controlled the world and who judged humanity, was here now, reduced to a mess of sighs, damp hair clinging to his forehead, eyes half-closed. Was Mikami really... allowed?

He watched in awe, he listened and touched, and kissed... and the way Kira looked and sounded right then was almost too much to handle. It would have been a perfect, spiritual moment, had Teru not been human and consequently thinking about himself as well. He tried not to, of course. After all, he was merely a servant, and so had no right to expect anything. But he couldn't help his own reactions and a quiet hope that his lord would not just roll over and fall asleep after this.


End file.
